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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764965">Diamonds and a Ring of Gold</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Roslin/pseuds/Dr_Roslin'>Dr_Roslin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Committed Relationship, Consensual Sex, Creepy Snoke (Star Wars), Dead Snoke (Star Wars), Devoted Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Dirty Talk, F/M, HEA, Inspired by The Gift of the Magi - O. Henry, Loss of Virginity, Makeup Sex, Mention - Freeform, Mention of other potential partners, Miscommunication, No Pregnancy, Oral Sex, Reunited Sex, Reunited and It Feels So Good, Safe to Read if Triggered by Pregnancy, Soft Ben Solo, Soft Rey (Star Wars), Somewhat, Talking about feelings and sex, They've only had sex with each other, Vaginal Sex, lots of feelings, lots of talking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:21:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29764965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dr_Roslin/pseuds/Dr_Roslin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Their wedding day, Ben had gifted Rey with an intricately braided ring of gold; slipped it on her finger with all care and ceremony. The next morning he found its imprint on his skin; a treasured memento from his having clenched her hand in his.<br/>
</p>
<p>If only she'd been there to see it.</p><p>----</p><p>Separated for almost five years, Rey and Ben have overcome obstacles, Snoke and fate to reunite. </p><p>Posted as part of <a href="https://t.co/OUl6gysP60?amp=1">Beccastanz's collection </a></p>
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <a href="https://t.co/OUl6gysP60?amp=1"></a></p>
  <p><a href="https://t.co/OUl6gysP60?amp=1">Reylo AU in which they lose their virginities to each other, then lose touch, only to run into each other years later and fall back into bed together. Something something one of them says “show me what you’ve learned”👁👅👁</a><br/>
<br/>
Bonus: The other person has not slept with anyone since</p>
  <p><a href="https://t.co/OUl6gysP60?amp=1">— Becca 👄 (@beccastanz) </a><br/>
<a href="https://twitter.com/beccastanz/status/1364997370551799808?ref_src=twsrc%5Etfw">February 25, 2021</a></p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>118</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Show Me What You’ve Learned: A Reylo AU Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Diamonds and a Ring of Gold</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Their wedding day, he'd gifted Rey with an intricately braided ring of gold; slipped it on her finger with all care and ceremony.</p><p>The next morning he found its imprint on his skin; a treasured memento from his having clenched her hand in his.</p><p>If only she'd been there to see it.</p><p>He'd fallen asleep with her in his arms - both of them warm, sated - and woke, the covers tucked neatly around him, alone.</p><p>The bag she'd packed for their honeymoon, is missing, as is his wife. The guards know nothing, but there's a gentle breeze wafting in from the open doors to the outdoor terrace. He tries not to think of the thirty-foot drop she must have navigated in the middle of the night with nothing but a thin rope.</p><p>He tries not to think of the fact that she’d also taken his ring - a pledge of his unfailing loyalty - with her.</p><p>That next year, he's continually searching for it, on the hands of the women who hide their faces from him. The legend grows - of the one woman who'd got away from the dastardly Lord Ren - even as Snoke laughs in his face.</p><p>‘All that trouble I went to, my dear Lord Ren, and you fall for the first pretty girl who doesn’t spook at the touch of your hand. Too bad you couldn’t keep her from slipping out of your fingers after the first taste of your bed.’</p><p>By the second year, he’s learned to be more subtle about it, learned to hide it; from Snoke, from his Knights. He knows they've pledged their allegiance to his Master, rather than to him; he knows better than to trust them. Knows they report back on him, every shift in his mood, every shift in his gaze, to the Master they share.</p><p>Yet, he doesn't stop.</p><p>He's still hopeful, that second year, still daring to think that he'll see it, his ring, somewhere. Maybe on her hand, maybe in the possession of someone who might help him find her.</p><p>So, he never stops. </p><p>By the end of the fourth year, it’s almost a reflex, looking for that ring on someone’s finger. It’s been so long, since she left him to mourn alone. He's grown used to carrying the weight of it, though still, it aches. He's used to the pain, by now, though.</p><p>He still misses her.</p><p>He misses the little time they’d had together, misses her shy smile, and it hurts, if he dwells on it. </p><p>He tries to tell himself it's for the best. </p><p>She must have had her reasons and it isn't as though he doesn’t know: that he’s unlovable, that he’s broken, that he’s unworthy. He knows he could never overcome it, everything he’d done; to his family, to her, for Snoke. After bringing her home to be exposed by the devil that is his Master.</p><p>Still.</p><p>It had felt like she’d decided to stay, with him, that night.</p><p>To help him face it all in the light of day.</p><p>As they’d lain wrapped together in that big, dark bed as the night breezes tugged at her hair; it felt like they might move forward. It had felt like she’d decided to love him; at least as much as a monster such as he could be loved by the gentle spirit he’d embraced in his bed. It hurts.</p><p>When he reflects on what he’d lost; it hurts. It feels like someone stabbed him in the heart - stabbed him and left the knife in - when he thinks of it. So he doesn’t. Doesn’t think of it, doesn’t think of her.</p><p>Pretends instead to be the monster those around him fear.</p><p>The next time he sees his ring, a beautiful, intricately braided ring of gold - still on her ring finger - she’s walking calmly back into Snoke's palace.</p><p>The next time he sees it - his ring on her finger - it's as she walks back into his life, an army at her back.</p><p>As she smiles.</p><p>It was only then, at that exact moment, that he realized that he’d never seen the hands of his contact in the Alderaanian resistance without gloves.</p><p>Realizes then, in that exact moment, that it had been her, the entire time. Every meeting, every secret; it had always been her.</p><p>And she’s back.</p><p>That night, Snoke dead, as she takes him into her bed, as her body heats the sheets for him to bask, her body and her heart are still as soft, still as warm, though more toned. </p><p>Her skin is still tipped gold by the sun, just as it has always been in his dreams. His body, his heart, is the same, really, as it was all those lonely nights ago.</p><p>Just more scarred.</p><p>He’s terrified, though, looking at her now, standing in front of her, the bed behind them taunting them with its existence. The last time they’d been here it had ended with him holding nothing but empty sheets and missing a runaway bride. She’d done it for him, he knows. Knew it even then, knew there was no way she could stay to be used by Snoke to keep his favourite puppet in line.</p><p>Yet it stings. It stings, the pain as it comes racing back, as it sticks at his heart and his mind.</p><p>She’s walking up to him now, smiling; she’s holding his hand and it takes some of the sting away, the way she presses into him.</p><p>‘Have you missed me?’ she asks, coy in a way she's never been trying to get him to smile in return, he thinks.</p><p>And it works. Her smile, her touch.</p><p>Allows him to breathe a little, as she looks up at him, her face tilted to his smile like a sunflower to the sun.</p><p>‘Every night,’ he swears.</p><p>And it's suddenly as if no time has passed at all.</p><p>He can try, too. He can follow her lead, he can try; play a little, join her in making new memories to join the old.</p><p>‘Show me. Show me what you’ve thought of. In the dark without me,’ she’s still smiling, but he sees the sudden sad, as if the memory of all those nights alone had suddenly come rushing in, and he can’t tell what she’s thinking.</p><p>‘Show me all you learned from those girls Vicrul told me Snoke paid for and sent to your room every night.’ </p><p>And then he can’t hear himself over the roaring panic infecting his brain. </p><p>He’d forgotten that the Resistance might have had more than one spy in Snoke’s camp. And he’d forgotten that Vicrul had never known; how he and Apl’ek had smuggled all those girls out, untouched, as they’d promised to hold their tongues if they wanted to keep their heads. </p><p>‘Rey - ’</p><p>But she’s not looking at him and she’s not listening, barrelling on. </p><p>‘It’s okay, I know, I left you, remember? And it’s been almost five years. We both did what we had to do, right? It was hard enough, right? Without always being alone.” She’s smiling bravely and it’s killing him. </p><p>‘So show me all your new tricks.’</p><p>And the panic is so overwhelming and he’s in so deep, that he can’t figure what he needs to respond to first; her evident unhappiness over the fact she thinks he slept with all those other women or the fact that it will be evident the moment he touches her that not only that there hasn’t been anyone since the moment she slipped out of his bed - that late at night, it’s at most the memory of the smell of her skin and the feel of his hand on his cock - but also that, in fact, it was only ever her, in his bed. </p><p>Only ever her skin under his lips; only ever her softness under his hands, her hands on his.</p><p>That the only way he knows how to love her is the way he’s always done.</p><p>And it’s killing him, even though he’d known it all along; that he could never have been enough for her. </p><p>Killing him - though he’s no right to judge - that she’d clearly been able to move on when she’d needed to. When he couldn’t. And he wishes he could hold it in, wishes he could stop the jealousy that burns through him from the inside, destroying him, but he can’t, because it’s killing him. </p><p>Killing him; the way he can’t stop wondering about the others in her bed as he slept alone in his, forever unable, without her, to imagine it anything other than cold.</p><p>Wonders if it’s always going to be that way. </p><p>-------------------</p><p>The room is cold, suddenly, in ways it hadn’t been before, cold in a way that made her feel it, deep inside her bones.</p><p>He’s looking at her as if she’s suddenly fragile, looks at her like he can’t understand what she’s doing here. Looking at her as if he didn’t know her at all. <br/>
  <br/>
And she’s seconds away, she’s opening her mouth, she’s shifting her wait to reach out to him, when she hears it.</p><p>That soft purr she’d come to associate, these last years, with the monster Snoke had unleashed. That deep, dark, rich purr, dangerous and insidious, drifting over, the dangerous voice of Kylo Ren, not Ben Solo. Looking at him now, she sees the dragon she’d spent the last few years fighting, not the lost Prince of Alderaan she’d given her soul to rescue.</p><p>The voice she’d hoped they moved beyond for good. </p><p>And it’s wrapping around, whispering into her air, striking at where she’s weak. </p><p>‘No, you should never have had to be alone; never have had to suffer without me to warm you. I’m glad you found companions to realize that, to warm your bed if it couldn’t be me. So, then, princess, show me what you’ve learned. Without me.’</p><p>Without him. </p><p>She can’t imagine it, living, loving, without him. It had been suggested, those years apart, that she look for comfort elsewhere, for her grief, a suggestion that made sense to her, objectively. She was lonely, a lot of them were, in the cold Resistance camps, and the offers had been plenty, for warmth, for companionship, for sexual release, even. And it made sense, and she’d contemplated it sometimes, late at night, when the memories of his hands on her body, his lips on her lips, his cock deep in her, were so overwhelming that it was hard to breathe. She’d thought of it, thought of using others to subsume her grief, using their bodies to warm hers. </p><p>It had been selfish, in the end, she’d decided. Not because she couldn’t give of herself, not because she would be selfish with her partners, but because in the end, it would just be putting off the pain. For her; for them. </p><p>In the end, she’d never be able to let herself go. In the end, she would never be able to share herself without worrying she’d end up screaming her husband’s name into the night. </p><p>She’d known it hadn’t been the same, for him, had heard the rumours even before Vicrul had confirmed them, known he’d moved on, at least physically. Had known and had always comforted herself that it had been done out of grief, out of anger, especially in light of the rumours that the women he'd brought to his bed had always borne a striking resemblance to her, at least physically.</p><p>It both comforts and disturbs her.</p><p>‘I- I mean,’ she says to him now, trying to remember how words work even as he’s looking at her like she’s a snack he’s looking forward to devouring while the panic takes over her brain. </p><p>And then, of course, it happens, the panic overtakes her and she opens her mouth. </p><p>‘We have to save what we can from our time apart, right? We’re not kids anymore. And we can each teach each other - things.’</p><p>It was only right, anyway, she’d told herself, only right that he took what he comfort he could find; not that she’d any right to expect the mate she’d left sleeping in his bed to be faithful to his vows when she’d been too weak to stay with him, too weak to figure a way to stand up to Snoke. </p><p>‘Positions. Unh. Techniques,’ she finishes weakly, trying not to look as broken as she feels. </p><p>‘Right,’ he confirms, the silky voice lowering, darker than her darker dreams as disdain slips from his lips. ‘Techniques.’</p><p>‘Different positions and stuff.’ </p><p>
  <em>Fuck, Rey.</em>
</p><p>‘I mean, what we did was great, obviously, and you were - ‘ </p><p>
  <em>Transcendent. Loving. Overwhelming. Warm. Generous. Amazing. </em>
</p><p>‘- good, but I’ve, uh, learned a few new things over the years. Maybe you’ll like them.’</p><p>She’d ears and eyes, hadn’t she? She could fake it. And privacy hadn’t exactly been a priority, for those she’d run with. She’d seen things that would have once shocked her, things that had thrilled her, thinking of doing them with him, one day. She could do this, right? Make him forgot the others? Though how she’s going to live up to the practiced maneuvers of all the professionals he’d had delivered to his bed she’s no idea. </p><p>Particularly since he’s the only man she’s ever trusted to do anything other than kiss her.</p><p>Still, he was hers, now, just as he’d been before. She’d claim him every way she could, no matter what it took.</p><p>‘Good,’ he says slowly.</p><p>Is it possible his eyes just got <em>darker</em>?</p><p>‘Oh, yes, my little wife. I think we can do a lot better than good.’</p><p>----------------------------------</p><p>Looking back, it’s hard to remember exactly how she’d ended up here, with the newly crowned King of Alderaan looming over her. That could be simply because it’s hard to remember how to breathe, with her overly large husband looming over, but also because it feels like it was a million years ago and also yesterday. </p><p>His hands are suddenly on her, cradling her neck, hauling her in, pressing her flush to him, his mouth at the pulse point of her neck, his teeth just a hint scraping at her vein, and she can’t help but moan, arching into him. </p><p>‘Ben-’</p><p>Her clothes are suddenly no impediment, not that they were much of one to begin with. Her dressing gown had fallen to the floor without her noticing, and the thin material of her sleepwear keeps out nothing, and certainly not the heat from his palm as he cups both her breasts in his hand. His mouth is still pulsing at her neck, making her dizzy. </p><p>It had always been this way, since the moment he’d wandered into her garden, one morning in late summer. She’d looked at him, at his clothes made of the finest materials, at his boots of smooth, un-creased leather, had looked at his broad shoulders where the material strained and at his chest where every button looked like it was a hair's-breadth from failing. Looked at him, as he took off his helmet, at his dark hair and even darker eyes, looked at the plush mouth which looked like it had never smiled, and had wanted. </p><p>What a waste, she’d thought. What a waste for that mouth to never smile, the way she somehow knew it never smiled. </p><p>She’d kept her eyes at the level of his chest - she’d known who he was, how could she not, known it wasn’t safe to look him in the eye - kept her soul safe, and wanted. Wanted what she knew she could never have. Wanted those lips on hers and those shoulders between her thighs. Wanted the warmth she somehow knew could shine from those glorious eyes.</p><p>Wanted his voice in her ear whispering his love.</p><p>They were married that afternoon. </p><p>He’d looked at her smile as he’d tipped her chin with a gentle hand, looked in her eyes as she’d carefully lifted hers to meet his, and smiled back. And somehow, they’d both known; that all those little broken, jagged pieces that made up all their edges just somehow fit, together. Just somehow made it a little less lonely, a little less broken. Somehow, they’d each just known; that the other was the piece they’d each been missing.</p><p>‘Wait-’</p><p>She tries again, though she’s not sure he hears her, and it must have been different, all those times with those others, because the Ben that’s kissing her now isn’t the Ben who’d kissed her then, all those cold, empty nights so long ago when he’d pressed into her on their wedding night. </p><p>Ben that night - her new, careful, loving husband - had kissed her with every gentleness. Every caress a gentle touch of adoration, every kiss a benediction. They’d spent forever kissing, they’d spent forever touching, and his hands on her had been the hands of a master sculptor, soft, knowing, thorough. His lips on her had been everywhere, soft and ghosting at times, direct and knowing the next. When he’d slipped between her thighs to kiss her core and found her dripping, she’d heard the moan, when he’d pressed into her, she’d heard his whimper, somehow making it better as she’d processed every new sensation. </p><p>The Ben who kisses her now does so with control. With passion, but with purpose, with control, with mastery. Of her body. Of her. It overwhelms her, this sensation, makes her close her eyes and throw her head back and give herself over to his mastery, barely remembering what she has to tell him even as her sleep shirt falls from her body. </p><p>All that comes out is a moan.</p><p> ‘Yes, I’ve learned some things too, my little one,’ she hears him whisper, his voice rough next to her ear. </p><p>He’s laying her on the big bed, now, but before she can grab him to press his lips to hers - she’s missed them so much those lips, had missed them every time they’d met in the dark as he’d confessed all of Snoke’s little secrets to the Resistance spy he hadn’t known was her and she’d had to resist touching them as if she owned them - before she can claim her kiss, he’s kneeling once again at her feet.</p><p>This is something she knows, she thinks vaguely, this is something she and Ben had done together, this is something that belongs to them. </p><p>Or, at least that’s what she thinks before he starts. </p><p>He’s teasing, in ways he’d never done before, nibbling at the upper insides of her legs, scraping his teeth gently across her skin, licking at her clit, before digging in, sucking it, fucking her with her tongue and she’s screaming, pulling at his hair, begging for him to finish her, begging for him to push her over the edge.</p><p>She feels the smirk against her thigh as he deliberately moves before she gets there and she’d be cursing his name if she could remember how words worked. Undeterred, he’s working his way up her body, kissing every inch of her as she pants his name. She’s not sure, if it’s a game - it feels like a punishment - the way he keeps drawing back at the last minute, the way he’s holding back. From her, from them. </p><p>And it’s finally as she’s coming, as she’s screaming his name, that she looks up and sees the smirk on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes - darker than she’s ever seen - that she realizes. He’s kissed her everywhere but her lips, lips he’d once spent an entire day worshiping, lips she'd once declared nectar of the gods, lips he’d once loved getting lost in. Realizes that he’s looking at her like she’s prey, instead of looking at her like she’s his.</p><p>He’s pressing into her, sliding into her where she’s warm and wet, and she reaches out to bury her hands in his gloriously soft dark hair, sliding the long strands away from his fascinating face, warming it with her hands even as he hides his gaze from her, choosing to look down instead, to where they’re joined, where he’s breaching her body’s defenses, so she reaches out instead to grab his hand, to entwin her hands with his the way they’d done so often, the night they’d joined their lives and their hearts together. </p><p>He moves it. </p><p>He moves his hand to avoid hers even as his body slides into hers, moves his hand to avoid the way she wants to hold his hand, and she can’t breathe, again, but it’s because the way the cold seizes at her heart.</p><p>Her husband’s coming, in her body, spending his seed into her, within minutes, as he pumps into her, with his face buried in her neck, his arms around her, and it scares her, how she’s never felt so cold. He finishes within moments, so she grabs him before he moves, forcing him to look at her, really look at her.</p><p>‘It’s only ever been you,’ she whispers in his ear, unable to keep it in her heart a second more.        </p><p>And now he is, looking at her, shocked, apparently, the way he takes her in, the way she looks anything but passionate, the way she’s clearly not in the same state of post-coital bliss as he’d reached, the way her eyes are clear and her breath is soft, even as his cock softens as it stays in her. The way her features, though determined, show not a hint of the arousal they’d shown mere minutes before.</p><p>‘Rey-’ he says, and there he is, her Ben, the soft eyes once again full of regret and self-doubt. </p><p>‘I know; I know I could never be enough, I’m sorry, shit.’ </p><p>And this time he is moving, forcing his way out of her arms, and she’s going to freeze to death, the way the room has gone so cold. </p><p>‘What was I thinking? Shit, sorry, so sorry-’ he says, not looking at her again, reaching for a robe, she thinks. ‘I’ll go - I’m sorry-’</p><p>‘Stay,’ and now it’s her, who’s begging. </p><p>‘Stay. Ben, please. I swear, it’s always been you. Just you. I need you. You’re the reason I’m here, you’re the reason I left. I swear, I can learn whatever you need to teach me, I’m sure we can-’</p><p>He’s covering her, with the blanket, and she’s laying there, though she manages to prop herself up on her elbows, looking for him, raising her hand to reach out to him, even as he flinches at the prospect of her touch. </p><p>‘What did you say?’</p><p> It’s painful, how his harsh voice scrapes against her skin, its cadence leaving scrapes.</p><p>‘I can learn-’</p><p>‘No, before.’</p><p>‘You. Always just you. You know that; you’re the reason I’m here - when we came here, I thought we could build a life, stay, but then, you know what Snoke was planning, you know he wanted to use me to control you - you know I had to leave-’</p><p>‘You just need me.’</p><p>
  <em>It’s a question? Why is it a question? It's always been true.</em>
</p><p>‘Yes.’</p><p>It’s something he’s always known.</p><p>‘Rey, that’s not- you don’t need to say that-’ he’s rubbing his face, dragging his hand through his hair, pushing it off his face. ‘I’ll do better; if you let me try. I know, I’m not- I can’t compare-’</p><p>The way his shoulders set, she’d never see anything like that.</p><p>‘I can do better.’  </p><p>He looks like he’s going to cry, the tears tensing at the edge of his glorious eyes. </p><p>‘If you let me try. I’ll work on it and then - I can do better.’</p><p>He looks at her earnestly. </p><p>‘You can show me - we can learn together.’</p><p>Does he think? There’s only so long she can lie to him without being found out. Still. Maybe he can teach her?</p><p>‘We can learn together. I know you have tons more experience than me, but-’</p><p>‘Rey?’</p><p>‘As you’ve always said. I’m a quick learner. I don’t need to know everything that those women taught you -  though maybe we should bring one in, she can teach us-’</p><p>The snort echoes through the room and she stares as he sinks to his haunches, still naked, as if he can handle standing any more - </p><p>‘Unless you’re interested in leaving the palace through the kitchen, I’ll doubt you’ll have anything to learn from those women, Rey.’<br/>
  <br/>
It honestly takes her a minute, to process what he’s saying, this husband of hers, as he sits down abruptly on the floor, apparently no longer able to handle the strain of bearing the weight of his own thoughts. </p><p>‘They didn’t- you mean, you didn’t?’</p><p>His eyes are on the floor, and if anything, he seems to crumple into himself.</p><p>‘The only one I’ve ever felt safe with is you. Why would I want anyone else’s touch?’<br/>
 <br/>
‘I know - I thought, the truth is, Rey, I haven’t any idea what I’m doing. I went along with the thought of what you might like. That’s all,’ and he’s small, somehow, small in a way she can’t stand. ‘I thought maybe I could fake it, but all I did was hurt you, take instead of give.’</p><p>Finally, he looks up at her.</p><p>‘Teach me what you like. Teach me everything you’ve learned. I’m a quick study, I swear.’</p><p>When she laughs, almost hysterical, he flinches, and she’s cursing, running to him, climbing into his lap, kissing his jaw, wrapping herself around him until they both relax, a little. </p><p>‘Sorry, so sorry,’ she whispers into his hair, ‘it’s stupid, laughing. But-’</p><p>Despite everything, she stops, gulps in needed air, waits, vulnerable, before she lets it all out.</p><p>‘It’s only ever been you.’</p><p>And this time, his eyes on her are once again a golden amber that she loves, though she can tell he doesn’t quite believe her, so she tells him once more.</p><p>‘I’ve only ever felt safe at your hands. Why would I want to touch anyone else?’</p><p>‘But you-’</p><p>Grabbing his face in her hands once more - yes, she plans on doing that forever, plans on forever rubbing those cheekbones along the edge of her palms on the way to bury her hand in his hair as he stares at her like she’s made of stars - she glorious in the deep amber-brown of his eyes. Ben’s eyes. It had taken her so long to get here, she had to glory, once more in it. </p><p>The two of them, together.</p><p>‘It was only ever you. It was only that I’d no wish to appear smaller in your eyes. In comparison. To the others. The ones I was sure you’d brought in to take my place’</p><p>He’s biting his lip again, that sure sign of nerves, until she reaches in to bite it for him. </p><p>‘Rey-’</p><p>‘Take me to bed. I’m cold.’</p><p>He’s scooping her up before she’s time to think, cradling her carefully to bury them both in the blankets she’d only recently deserted. Snuggles them both carefully in their warmth, arranging them to his liking, so that every possible part of them that can touch, does. Lays them up against the pillows so that they can gaze into each other's eyes, reach out, touch, nibble at the other as they would a delectable meal. </p><p>And everything is once again right in her world.</p><p>‘Rey, those women-’</p><p>‘Forget them.’</p><p>‘I have. They could never take your place, in my bed. Even if Snoke hadn’t chosen them, even if he made sure they resembled you, even if he didn’t wave it in my face, that he had to procure replacements for my pretty little wife. Even if every time he hadn't made it a point of proclaiming me too weak to keep my wife in my bed.’</p><p>And once again, she’s raising herself up on her elbows, outraged at the pain and regret on her husband’s face. </p><p>‘What?’</p><p>‘They stayed only long enough for Ap’lek to make arrangements to smuggle them out. I swear.’</p><p>‘And Snoke?’</p><p>‘Cared only to make my life a misery. I wanted only to wrap you in warmth and furs and fill your belly full of food. If you hadn’t left, I don’t know what he would have done. To you; to us. I’m only sorry that I lacked the strength to stand up to him, then.’</p><p>She smiles, snuggling back in. </p><p>‘If we’re trading secrets, leaving you took everything I had. I leaped over that terrace and the water was as a slap to the face, reminding me that I’d be the one breaking us both. And so I slept alone every night. Missed you every day.’</p><p>The blankets have warmed pleasantly, with the addition of her overly large, overly large husband in them, and she feels it again, that tingling in her belly.</p><p>‘So tell me, then, everything you’ve thought of doing, with me.’</p><p>She can see the way his eyes light as his cock twitches at her thigh, coming to life at the thought. </p><p>‘Perhaps I’ll do the same.’</p><p>He’s whispering in her ear then, rough and dark, of kissing her - deep, soft, wet, until she can’t see straight - kissing her for days, kissing her everywhere, over every inch. Kissing her lips and her skin and every inch of her breasts, marking her nipples as they scrape over his tongue. Liking at her cunt until she cries for more. Kissing her thighs until she begs him to kiss her where she wants, with his tongue in her pussy and his lips on the sensitive nub above. </p><p>And she feels it, the way she melts, the way her core warms and softens, as the arousal pools in her belly, adding to the tingling, as she tells him in return, of all the places she’d thought of kissing him, simply to see his reaction. Taking his cock in her mouth, sucking at it until he’s begging for mercy, until he’s promising her the moon, until she has him at her mercy. Kissing those delicious pink lips until they are swollen as red, rubbing her lips over every inch of his chest.</p><p>Tells him that as he nibbles at her neck, pressing in kisses she’s sure will bruise, as his hands find her nipples and her belly, scooping underneath to caress her ass, scooping forward to dip into her core. Seemingly fascinated by the way he finds it warm, wet, soft, for him, he takes his time exploring it with the blunt tips of his fingers, dipping in, tracing the outline of her cunt as her words get harder to get out and her breath quicken. </p><p>It feels so good, when he shifts to hover over her, safe in the cradle of her thighs, and it’s instinct, that has her wrapping her legs around his waist, glorying in the way it shifts her up and forward, pressing her pelvis into where he grinds into her.</p><p>And this time, when his fingers shift between them it’s the work of a moment before she’s flying, panting into his shoulder, chanting his name, breathing out obscenities.  </p><p>And this time, as he presses into her, his lips are on hers and his hands are entwined with hers, and his shoulders block out the rest of the world. And it’s just them, just her, just him, breathing in new promises and old vows.     </p><p>‘You’ve missed me,’ she states now and he smiles in return.</p><p>And she glories in it. His smile, his touch.</p><p>Breathes it in, as he looks up at her caged in his arms, his face warm and open.</p><p>‘Every night,’ he swears.</p><p>And it's suddenly as if no time has passed at all.</p><p>Playing with it again, the hand he has pressed into hers, she sees where the imprint will be, of her intricate wedding ring in his skin, sees where she will have marked there, as she knows she will have marked him elsewhere, as she glories in the way the ring on his finger will have marked her as well. </p><p>The marks on their skin a match to the imprints on their hearts.  </p>
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